Free Day
by Caesar Augustus Plutarch
Summary: Written in response to a PPMB Iron Chef challenge that asked for Daria characters to indulge in guilty pleasure. Given an opportunity, both Daria and Quinn do so.


Free Day  
_By CAP_

Quinn knocked on Daria's door before entering the room. She saw Daria stretched out on her bed a book, _Sartre's__ Being and Nothingness_, propped on her abdomen.

"Where's Dad?" she asked.

"He's meeting a client at _Pimlico_," Daria answered peering over her book.

"He's meeting a client at a horse track?" Quinn asked skeptically.

"That's his story and he's sticking to it," Daria quipped.

"Whatever," Quinn snorted. "I guess I don't need to ask where Mom is."

"No," Daria responded with the smallest hint of resignation.

Quinn shook her head. "Yeah," she said matching her sister's tone. "Anyway if either manages to get back before I do and actually remember that they have daughters tell them that I'm at Cranberry Corners with Stacy."

"No problem," Daria replied. "Where will you actually be?"

"Cruising on a motorcycle, of course," Quinn said with a straight face.

Daria laughed lightly. "And I'll be here reading romance novels."

Quinn chuckled at the idea. "See ya later."

"Just remember to get the bugs out of your teeth before you get back home," Daria called out.

Grimacing Quinn glanced over her shoulder. "Daria, you can be vulgar sometimes, you know," she said. Looking at the posters of skeletons on the walls and models of organs and skulls that sat on her desk and bookshelves. "Make that most times."

With a small wave of good-bye, Quinn left.

Daria remained still listening at her sister's footfalls as Quinn bounded down the stairs. When she heard the front door close, she tossed aside the Sartre and rolled out of bed springing to the window. Below her Quinn, large canvas bag hanging from one shoulder, hurried down the sidewalk in the direction of her friend Stacy's house. Daria frowned slightly at the bag but did not think much of it. Something else was on her mind. Despite her need, Daria forced herself to wait. Quinn might have forgotten something and return. The minutes ticked by. No sister.

No sister. No parents. The house was hers.

Daria took a deep breath, running her hands down her breasts, stomach, finally stopping at her thighs. Her excitement grew like the smile on her face. It had been too long and now she had practically an entire day to herself. It was time to get into her stash.

Prolonging the anticipation, Daria slowly walked from her room, a room she knew that her mother regularly searched but no one in the house would ever find her well-hidden stash. The secret addiction would remain concealed from busybodies and prying eyes. No one would discover her weakness. No one would ridicule her. She would have to explain nothing.

Daria padded into the kitchen. Savoring the eager tingle of expectation, she pulled the small three-step ladder from beside the refrigerator and unfolded it. Moments later she was reaching pass the mixing bowls to the shadowed back of the cabinet for a cloth covered bundle tied with a cord resting on the top shelf. She carefully closed the door and returned the ladder to its hidey-hole She grabbed a soda from the refrigerator before her dam of restraint burst.

She ran upstairs clutching the bundle to her bosom. She slammed the door behind her and leaped onto her bed. Savagely she tore at the piece of twine holding together the bundle. Within seconds, the light of day shone on four Regency romance novels along with a box of chocolates.

"Come to momma," Daria purred selecting one book and the candy.

As Daria curled up with her book, a few blocks away Quinn zipped up her leather jacket.

"What did you tell your parents?" Stacy asked.

"They weren't home," Quinn replied.

"What about your sis...cousin?"

"I told her that I was gonna be cruising on a hog," Quinn laughed.

"Really?" Stacy exclaimed. "What did she said?"

"To make sure I had the bugs out of my teeth before I got home," Quinn replied.

"Not a problem with the right equipment," Stacy lightly said before closing the full-face shield on her helmet.

"Yeah," Quinn agreed pulling on her own helmet. Once was enough she added silently.

"You girls ready?" Mr. Rowe asked as he came into the garage.

Both girls nodded.

"Let's hit the road!" he said with a wide grin.

With a scream of mechanized power, three Harleys sprang to life and charged into the open air. Quinn felt the vibrations of the mighty bike across every nerve of her body as a shot of adrenaline coursed through her. Mom and Dad would s*** a brick if they saw me now she thought but the lure of the road astride an iron horse banished any concern she had about her parents reaction. What the rest of the Fashion Club or anyone else would think troubled her even less.

Moments later, Daria spared only the briefest of glances toward her window at the sound of three large motorcycles rocketing down the street before returning to the Viscount St. John's awakening love for the chambermaid.


End file.
